


the curse of curves (but not really)

by trishapocalypse



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: CUTENESS kind of, First Time, M/M, Oral Sex, fetus lirry cuteness, umm dry humping? idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-16 00:42:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1325308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trishapocalypse/pseuds/trishapocalypse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry goes to Liam's to study, they watch a scary movie, and cute things happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the curse of curves (but not really)

**Author's Note:**

> The title sucks and the summary sucks. But I don't think this sucks. Who knows? This went from about 900 words and 30 different snippets sent to Tari while she was watching a scary movie to...this...because she wanted more... I'm incapable of saying no. Anyway. Hastily beta'd and all mistakes are mine and this never happened (shameful).
> 
> tumblr: @trishanthemum :)

The thing was, as scared as Harry was about watching _any_ sort of scary movie, he was more infatuated with Liam. So it made perfect sense for his infatuation to outweigh his fear, right? Right. Which was how he found himself on a Friday night, ignoring his maths homework in order to go to Liam’s house and watch a scary movie. And Harry told himself he was gonna play it cool, because Liam was the star of the footie team (right after the obnoxious _Louis Tomlinson_ who was just _so cool_ and Harry didn’t even know why they were friends, really) and Harry was just some film and music nerd or whatever. And Liam was cute, _so_ cute, and they were _friends_ but Harry just. Harry _liked_ him, even though he knew it was a really, really bad idea. 

It was halfway through some movie, Harry didn’t care about the title, all he knew was that there was some creepy clown and it was killing people and—ugh, _clowns._ And next thing he knew, there was a scary scene and he immediately found himself buried against Liam’s side with a groan, hiding his face against Liam’s neck, and he wasn’t even sure how he breached the gap between them on the couch so easily. He started with a gasp, attempting to pull away.

“Shit, sorry,” Harry grumbled.

“S’alright,” Liam assured him, easily wrapping an arm around Harry’s shoulder and pulling him back in. “Don’t like scary movies?”

Harry shook his head with a pout, hiding his face in Liam’s neck again now that he knew he was _allowed._ “Not really.”

“I can put on something else,” Liam offered quietly.

“No, it’s alright. It’s almost over, innit?”

Liam laughed as Harry jumped again, burrowing closer into his side. He instinctively ran his hand up the back of Harry’s neck, through his curls. “Yeah, think so.”

Harry pouted a little, but didn’t complain because, yeah, the film was scary but—he was with Liam, and Liam smelled _so good,_ and Liam was petting his hair and calming him down and _wow._ He was definitely going to take advantage of that. He wasn’t even paying attention to the movie, not anymore, not when Liam was lightly scratching his nails across Harry’s scalp. Harry found himself drifting off to sleep, just a little bit, because the next thing he knew, Liam was lightly shaking his shoulder.

“Alright there, Haz?”

Harry sat up slowly and nodded, rubbing his knuckles across his eyes. “Yeah. Can we never watch that again?”

Liam laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling adorably, and nodded. “Yeah, fair call, mate.”

_Mate,_ Harry frowned at the term, though he had no reason to because it wasn’t like he was _obvious_ with his feelings towards Liam. But, still— _mates._

“Wanna just…go to bed? S’late, yeah?”

“Time is it?” Harry asked.

“Half-one,” Liam said with a sheepish grin. 

Harry nodded. “Yeah.” He watched as Liam motioned for him to follow him up the stairs and into his room, where Harry had thrown his sleeping bag and satchel earlier. Silently they changed for bed, stripping down to their pants and a shirt. Liam turned out the light as Harry climbed into his sleeping bag, fluffing up his pillow and curling into the afghan that Liam had given him.

“G’night, Haz,” Liam told him, climbing over Harry’s body to get into his bed, pulling the covers up to his chin. 

Harry mimicked the sentiment, the room growing silent as he tried to relax. He could hear Liam’s breathing even out, but he couldn’t get comfortable. It took him almost an hour, or maybe over an hour, he wasn’t sure, but he was shifting around, tugging at his blanket. Whenever he closed his eyes, scenes from the movie played behind his eyelids, and he just couldn’t _sleep._

“If the floor’s uncomfortable, you can sleep up here,” Liam whispered, his voice breaking through the silence and causing Harry to jump.

“Are you sure?”

Liam let out a quiet puff of laughter. “Get up here, Haz.”

It took Harry a minute or two but he found himself climbing into Liam’s bed, snuggling under the covers. He could feel himself blushing and mumbling, “The movie really freaked me out.”

Liam didn’t stay anything; he just reached out and ruffled Harry’s curls, feeing the boy shift back a little bit against his chest. Liam could feel his heart rate pick up, just a little bit, from Harry’s close proximity. And it was a new feeling, it really was, because he had never really thought of a boy in _that way_ before. And it wasn’t the fact that Harry was _a boy_ that bothered him, it was the fact that they were _mates,_ and he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. But Harry curled back against his chest a little bit, snuffling as Liam wrapped an arm around his waist and fell asleep almost instantly.

And when Harry woke up the next morning, it was after the most peaceful night of sleep that he could remember. Liam’s arm was still tight around his waist, fingertips pressing just under the hem of his shirt that had ridden up during the night. And Harry knows he’s hard before he’s even fully conscious, isn’t surprised because it’s the _morning_ (or, well, afternoon—whatever, he doesn’t care about the _time_ ) and he’s _embarrassed._ Because, fuck, he’s hard and he’s sleeping in Liam’s arms; the whole situation is so fucked up and perfect that Harry’s not even sure he can function properly. 

And he knew sneaking out was an option, knew he could try to lift Liam’s arm and slip out from his grasp, grab his clothes and make a run for it. He could probably even make it down the stairs before Mrs. Payne would walk out of nowhere and ask if Harry wanted lunch or something else ridiculously sincere. But the thought leaves his mind almost as soon as it entered because Liam made some adorable little sound in his sleep, a mixture between a sigh and a grunt, his arm tightening around Harry’s waist, and Harry really didn’t want to leave. The sound of Liam’s even breathing lulled him back to sleep and, when he awoke for a second time, his chest was pressed to Liam’s, and he could hear Liam whisper his name softly, pulling him closer. And Harry could feel his cheeks flush because, fuck, he was still hard but, _fuck_ so was Liam. And Harry knew it was because they were teenage boys and hormones and all of those other logical and biological explanations but. Liam was _hard_ and it was amazing and horrifying at the same time. 

Liam smiled before he could stop himself, taking in Harry’s messy curls and soft, pretty face, and he didn’t even care that he was hard. He should have been embarrassed on some level, he was almost certain, but he wasn’t, because he woke up next to the prettiest boy he had ever seen and, wow, why hadn’t he kissed Harry yet?

Harry smiled after Liam didn’t move away, figuring if Liam had a problem with their current position, he would move to change it—and he _didn’t._ So Harry allowed himself to tuck his head underneath Liam’s neck, took a deep breath, and just enjoyed the moment.

Liam’s stomach grumbled and he let out a groan, followed quickly by a laugh. “Way to ruin the moment, yeah?”

Harry giggled, pulling away to nestle his head against the pillow and stare up at Liam because he _could._ “Want me to make breakfast?”

“Yes,” Liam responded instantly, but he didn’t loosen his hold around Harry’s waist. 

“One condition.”

“Anything.”

Harry felt his cheeks flush at Liam’s instant agreement, no questioning in his eyes at all, and he just _goes for it_ because he really doesn’t have anything to lose. “You gotta kiss me first.”

And Liam does, he doesn’t even hesitate; he just presses his lips against Harry’s, awkward at first. But then Harry tilted his head, just a little, and their lips slid together _perfectly._ And, wow, Harry’s lips were _so soft_ and Liam couldn’t actually believe they were kissing. And Harry was running on pure instinct and adrenaline, rolling onto his back and pulling Liam with him, thighs parting easily. He wrapped his foot around Liam’s calf and grinded up against him, breathless little whimpers leaving his lips. 

Liam doesn’t know when, can’t explain how it happened, but his lips were on Harry’s neck, hearing Harry pant breathlessly above him, feels Harry’s fingers digging into his biceps. And he’s reaching under Harry’s shirt, petting across his stomach before climbing higher, brushing across his nipples. Harry whines out loud, Liam’s tongue tracing across his neck as Liam pinches and twists at the tight little bud, sending shivers down Harry’s spine. 

“ _Liam,_ ” Harry panted, short fingernails digging into Liam’s skin, hips arching off the bed, trying to get closer, trying to get _more._ A little whine escaped his lips as Liam bit down on his neck, his hand left his nipple to brush across the front of his pants, curling around his cock and—wow, Harry had never had someone else touch him and it was _so good_ he could probably come in less than a minute. And he didn’t know if Liam had done it before, was almost positive he hadn’t, but he must’ve been born a natural with the way he was making Harry shake and quiver beneath him. 

Liam slipped his hand beneath the hem of Harry’s pants, curling around his cock and fisting him slowly, watching as Harry’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink, how his eyes went just a little glassy as he sprawled out beneath Liam. He pulls back long enough to slip Harry’s pants over his thin little hips, leaning down to press his lips against the inside of Harry’s thigh.

Harry sputtered a little bit when he felt Liam’s tongue across the head of his cock, quickly biting his lip to silence himself because he knows, knows Liam’s family is probably outside the room or downstairs and he didn’t want them to know; he just wanted the feeling to last forever or something else terribly clichéd. But Harry couldn’t control himself; Liam’s lips were sloppy around his cock, messy and uncoordinated, but it was also amazing and hot and _wet_ and Harry whimpered, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes as he struggled to stay quiet. 

Liam worked his tongue against Harry a little harder, tried to take a little bit more, wanted to hear more whimpers and moans escape his mouth. He wanted to hold Harry down and work his cock until Harry was crying out his name, he wanted to bruise his pale little lips and his pale little neck until Harry was shuddering and panting, he wanted— Liam just _wanted._

Harry’s thighs fell open a little bit further, hips arching off the bed, and he gasped when he felt Liam’s fingertips trace across his hole. It was weird and wonderful and not enough, something Harry had always wanted to try but never did for fear of his mum walking in, Gemma walking in, or someone looking at him and just _knowing._ But Liam’s fingertips were rough and calloused, just resting against him, and Harry whimpered again.

Liam hesitated, staring down at Harry, who pulled him into a kiss, their tongues sliding together messily and grinding up against him again. Harry’s hands slid down Liam’s back, gripped his arse and pulled him down, rubbing against him. His cock was so sensitive but it was _so good._ Liam’s cock felt huge beneath his pants, and Harry was torn between not wanting the friction to stop and wanting to take Liam between his lips and feel him come in his mouth until it dribbled down his chin and—wow, he didn’t even know he _wanted_ that, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it. 

Liam could feel Harry’s hands clawing at his arse before moving back up towards his back, over his shoulders. And he didn’t want it to stop, but he had footie practice and knew the lads would never shut up if they saw any marks, so he grabbed Harry’s wrists and pinned them to the bed, grinding down against Harry. Liam could feel the slick slide of Harry’s precome through his pants, against his abdomen as he moved their hips together, and he leaned down to kiss Harry, swallowing his moans as he felt the boy shake and come beneath him. 

It was probably the most beautiful thing Liam had ever seen, if he was being honest; beautiful and wonderful and amazing, and Liam squeezed his eyes shut as he came in his pants. He could still feel Harry’s hips lazily pushing up against his, Harry’s pretty pink mouth letting out little puffs of air as Liam hovered over him before collapsing on his little body. 

Harry flexed his fingers a little as Liam let go of his wrists, muttering an apology under his breath, his cheeks flushed. “I liked it,” Harry whispered, and he knew he was flushing but he didn’t _care_ because Liam was on top of him, and Liam had just come and made _him_ come, and nothing else mattered. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, pulling his wrist forward to inspect the little red marks and pouting. “Was kind of hoping it’d bruise,” he mused.

Liam frowned. “Wha—“

“Kinda would like the reminder that this happened, y’know?” he admitted.

Liam grinned, just a little, because Harry wanted a _reminder_ so, well, he would obviously have another chance, and that was—that was _brilliant._ “Think the bruise on your neck might last a little longer, yeah?”

Harry’s flushed cheeks were his only reply.


End file.
